


H4T3FL1RT

by lbk_princen



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, F/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 05:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14513877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lbk_princen/pseuds/lbk_princen
Summary: In Which A Tealbood In The Far End Of Her Adolescence Courts The Subject Of Her Pitch Interest Which Proves Complicated As He Is An Alien God And His Understanding Of Black Romance Is Limited Or So She Thinks; Contains 1 Major Death (Followed By Resurrection), 1 Chatlog, 1 Instance Of Shameless Pale Affection, 1 Instance Of Intentional Bucket Misuse, And Several Pitch Kisses.





	H4T3FL1RT

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this fic is a reference to this reaction image i created for when I RP Terezi and a John joins the chat: https://78.media.tumblr.com/55bcef4b15f4ea02c1fd9aa404df17fe/tumblr_p5p9ml0Fj51rjlnizo1_1280.png

Your name is Terezi Pyrope. You have just killed John Egbert.

**> Terezi: observe your handiwork.**   
  
The bright cherry scent of his blood mingles with the blue raspberry of his god tier outfit, and you allow yourself a moment to enjoy the colours. His corpse is splayed on the ground before you, slit throat bared to the twilight sky. You stand solemnly over the cooling corpse with your blade still drawn and contemplate him while you wait for him to revive.

John… Where do you even start with your thoughts on John. On the surface he's a goofy guy who likes bad movies, which you can appreciate, if that were all there was to him. You like cringy stuff too, but at least you  _ admit _ that the things you enjoy are weird. John carries on about his terrible human films like they're the best thing in any universe, and obstinately refuses to accept any sort of criticism for his tastes. His denial irritates you. He’ll deny anything and everything, even if the objective proof is right in front of him! You want to grab him by the hair and shove his face into the metaphorical proof-pie, smear it around his weirdly handsome nose and infuriatingly adorable blunt-toothed smirk.

The other thing that drives you crazy about John is that everybody likes him. You're not the petty type, you can handle being disliked just fine, but something about how everyone  _ admires  _ John sets your teeth on edge. It's not jealousy. More like incredulity. How is it that John can get away with his stupid pranks and off-putting (sometimes downright mean) remarks? There's something magnetically  _ likeable _ about him, and it almost got you, too. But the more time you spent around him, observing his interactions with others, the more his actions and personality started to get under your skin. 

You feel a visceral need to take him down a peg, to show him that his actions have consequences. You want to test his patience the way he tests yours. You want to wrap your claws around his pretty little neck and find out just how much damage those flat chew-stumps of his can do.

Yeah. You’re pitch for him.   
  
With that thought, the wind begins to pick up. Your nose is flooded with a banquet of colours and the fizzy scent of magic; you have to try very hard not to sneeze.   
  
The breeze settles and John stands before you, alive and dumbstruck. You are not ashamed to admit that you find the smell of his astonishment and growing anger to be quite palatable.   
  
"You killed me!" he cries, shocked.   
  
"It is not the first time," you remind him cooly. Your lips twitch in a poorly-restrained smile. His anger-scent wafts stronger.   
  
"Why the hell did you kill me?! Just because I'm god tier doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, you ass!" John takes a single step forward as he yells at you, but no further. You suspect he is wary of you, especially since you are still armed.   
  
"You weren't taking the strife seriously," you reply. He treated it like a game, laughing and getting distracted, leaving himself open. You grew frustrated, and decided that if he wasn't going to defend himself, you were not going to hold back.   
  
"You're fucking crazy!" John spits. "This was supposed to be a practice strife - you know, FOR FUN?"    
  
You take a step towards him. You half expect him to step back, but to your irritation and delight he holds his ground. "I do not like to hold back," you say, "even in practice. In the future, I suggest you refrain from holding back as well."   
  
John scoffs, and his expression carries a hint of boastful amusement. "You know that I have god-powers, right? If you actually want me to go all out in a fight, you're asking to lose."   
  
What a cocky little shit.    
  
Your hand flashes out and drags him closer by the fabric of his shirt. "That is a gross underestimation of me and my skill," you hiss, teeth bared inches from his face. You can hear his heart rate tick up; adrenaline is a subtle but intoxicating scent. “You are far too assured of your own capabilities. It was  _ easy _ to kill you. Is that what you want, John? To be  _ easy?” _

He chokes and laughs nervously, delectable cherry blood rising under the sweet almond skin of his cheeks. “That means something I don't think you meant to mean.”

Your grin curls your lips and you tug him closer. “I’m aware of the double meaning of ‘being easy’,” you purr, but it's more growl than purr. The noise rattles your voice box.

John gulps. His scent becomes an interesting mixture of irritation and excitement. You breathe it in and savor it.

Suddenly, your fingers close over thin air and you stumble slightly into the space where John just was. Wind that absolutely  _ reeks  _ of him blows your hair around and quickly dissipates, leaving you alone in the strife circle.

Disappointment and anger flows through you. The asshole made himself wind to abscond, like a coward. You grind your teeth and smack the ground with your cane once before taking a deep, calming breath.

As you navigate home, you keep thinking about that last whiff you got of him. You didn’t just imagine that full-body interest in you. At least, you hope not.

**> Be John, later that night.**

Your name is John Egbert. You can't sleep.

Your mind keeps drifting back to earlier today, when Terezi killed you in your apparently-not-mock strife. As you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, your hand goes to your throat and traces where she cut you. There is no scar. If it weren't for the vividly painful memory, it would almost be like it never happened. 

You were toying with her, when it happened. Avoiding her attacks rather than blocking, dipping and twirling away but never flying so far that she couldn't quickly enter range again, and only ever swinging your zillyhoo hammer at half-strength. You were having fun. The consternation on her face was funny to you; why was she taking this so seriously? Her movements slowed down, and you slowed to match her. You opened your mouth to playfully ask if she was ready to stop, and she lunged, faster than you could anticipate.

Dying is not fun. 

You remember collapsing to your knees with both hands pressed against your neck. Blood poured out between your fingers; she got you right in the artery. Your breath quickened and you began to feel light-headed. You couldn't form words, only a strangled noise of pain.

Terezi stood over you, canesword dripping with your blood. She didn't look mad, but her expression had something dark and intense to it. Your feelings of confusion were overwhelmed only by your anger. Then you blacked out.

You don't realize you're sighing until it happens. You take your hand off your neck and turn onto your side, shifting the blanket around you. 

You don't like being angry. It takes a lot to make you mad; usually it hits you like a brick wall out of nowhere, and maybe you do or say something stupid, but it fades pretty quickly. You remember yelling at Terezi in anger when you woke up, calling her crazy. Maybe you should apologize for that.

Wait, no! She  _ killed _ you! You have a right to be angry! If she apologizes for slitting your throat, maybe you will apologize for yelling, but not before.

You haven't told anyone about what happened.

Jade messaged you to ask how your night was, but you closed persterchum without answering. You feel bad for ignoring her, but you have all these mixed up feelings about Terezi that you don't know what to do with, plus Jade would be able to tell that something was bothering you, and you're not ready to talk about it yet. Especially since Jade will probably get mad at Terezi on your behalf -  Terezi may not be god tier but she's still pretty strong, and the last thing you want to do is cause drama between girls with superpowers.

The image of Terezi’s face swims in your mind. The way she's put together really is alien, which you would never really notice about the trolls until you're practically nose-to-nose with one. Dave is always going on about the little differences between the two species though, so maybe it's just you. 

Terezi’s smile is terrifying, all thin black lips and dangerously sharp teeth. For a moment when she was pulling you close, you wondered what it'd be like to kiss her. In retrospect, the panic of that thought is what pushed you to abscond, not anything she was doing. You groan quietly and rub your face. Why did you think about kissing her? That was stupid.

You're still mad at her. You think you are, anyway. When you think about her and what she did to you, your insides get all tense and hot. That's anger, right? It weirdly reminds you of the butterflies you get thinking about celebrity crushes you used to have. That feeling made you all light and fluttery, though. This feeling makes you taut and kind of itchy.

You decide to avoid Terezi until you figure out what all this means. 

**> Terezi: tell John what all this means.**

You would, but he seems to be avoiding you. You haven't smelled hide nor hair of him for a full week.

The community centre is the default hangout spot for the game survivors. You’re there now, hanging out with Dave and Karkat. You tease them about how delicious it is that your two favourite red boys are red for each other.

John walks in, sees you, and walks out.

You frown, and Karkat shouts after him, but he does not re-enter. 

“I wonder what has his god-hood in a knot,” Dave mumbles. “He like, never looks that sour.”

You cough into your hand, drawing the boys’ attention to you. You offer a sheepish smile.

“What the fuck did you do to Egbert?” Karkat asks, exasperated.

“I might have cut him open,” you admit. “Just a little bit. He only died a little.”

The following conversation left you bitter and slightly remorseful. Dave chewed you out for killing his best friend  _ again _ , and Karkat pointed out that John was not a troll, and sticking your sword in his throat was not a very human-friendly way of expressing romantic interest. When you tried to object having such an interest, Karkat clearly did not believe you.

Grumbling under your breath, you pull out your palmhusk as Dave and Karkat leave you to meet up with Rose and Kanaya.

 

\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC]  began trolling ectoBiologist [EB] --

GC: JOHN

GC: 1 WOULD L1K3 TO T4LK TO YOU

EB: what.

GC: 1 4POLOG1Z3 FOR K1LL1NG YOU Y3ST3RD4Y

GC: NOT B3C4US3 1 R3GR3T 1T, B3C4US3 1 DONT

GC: BUT B3C4US3 1 R3GR3T YOU 4CT1NG L1K3 4 P1SSB4BY 4BOUT 1T

EB: that was the shittiest apology i have ever heard!

GC: Y34H, W3LL

GC: TH4T 1S 4LL YOU G3T

EB: you suck.

EB: why do i hang out with you.

GC: 1 DONT KNOW JOHN

GC: YOU T3LL M3

EB: …

EB: i mean, you’re normally pretty fun.

EB: fun to mess with, i mean.

EB: i don’t know! i liked you just fine but then recently you started getting on my nerves. when you asked me to strife with you i thought it would be like a fun bonding activity for good friends.

EB: boy was i wrong. :/

GC: JOHN 1 H4T3 YOU

EB: why?! what did i do???

GC: NOTH1NG SP3C14L

GC: 1 JUST H4T3 YOUR DUMB F4C3 4ND TH3 DUMB TH1NGS 1T 1S 4LW4YS S4Y1NG

EB: is that why you killed me? some awful murder troll instinct to kill things you don’t like?

GC: DONT B3 R4C1ST

EB: UGH!

GC: H3H3H3

GC: 1N 4LL S3R1OUSN3SS

GC: TH4T BOTH 1S 4ND 1SNT WHY 1 K1LL3D YOU 

EB: that’s stupid. either it is or it isn’t, it can’t be both.

GC: YOU H4V3 4 V3RY L1M1T3D W4Y OF S331NG TH1NGS, YOU KNOW TH4T?

GC: 4ND TH4TS COM1NG FROM M3, WHO L1TER4LLY H4S S1GHT L1M1T3D TO Z3RO

EB: yeah, what ever. you're blind, we get it. just explain already.

GC: 1 WOULD NOT H4V3 K1LL3D YOU L1K3 TH1S 1F YOU W3R3 NOT C4P4BL3 OF R3SURR3CT1NG

GC: CONTR4RY TO WH4T YOU PROB4BLY B3L13V3, 1 DO NOT 3NJOY K1LL1NG TH1NGS S1MPLY FOR TH3 S4K3 OF V1OL3NC3

EB: you don’t? /unconvinced look

GC: NO NOT R34LLY

GC: M4YB3 4T ON3 PO1NT 1 D1D, BUT 1V3 K1ND4 GROWN UP 4 LOT

GC: 1TS FUNNY TO PR3T3ND 1 ST1LL DO THOUGH >:]

GC: BUT Y34H 1 DONT 4CTU4LLY W4NT YOU D34D

GC: 4LTHOUGH YOUR HUM4N BLOOD DO3S SM3LL F44444NT4ST1C H3H3H3H3

EB: gross.

EB: wait, so what was the point of killing me then??

GC: TO G3T YOUR 4TT3NT1ON

EB: what?

EB: terezi that doesn’t make any sense.

GC: JOHN 1 *H4T3* YOU

EB: jeez yes i know, you said that already!

GC: >8/

EB: wait…

EB: by hate do you mean normal hate or weird troll romance hate?

GC: GU3SS

EB: ... 

EB: wow, ok.

EB: so, um… if i’m understanding this right…

EB: you killed me to ask me out???

GC: NOT QU1T3

EG: BLUH. this is stupid and confusing!

EB: no more mind games!

EB: no more cutesy threats or witty come backs!

EB: tell me what you want from me already.

GC: BUT TH4TS NO FUN

EB: for you maybe!!!

EB: i thought you were my friend and you KILLED me!!!!!

 

Your thumbs hover over the screen, hesitating. Put like that, you can understand why he hasn’t talked to you since it happened. You try to formulate a response.

 

GC: 1 UND3RST4ND WHY YOU 4R3 4NGRY W1TH M3 

GC: 1TS ON M3 FOR NOT T4K1NG 1NTO 4CCOUNT TH3 F33BL3 HUM4N M1ND 4ND TH3 1NGR4T14T1NG POS1T1ON 1T 4SSUM3S WH3N3V3R TH3 TOP1C OF TROLL ROM4NC3 1S BRO4CHED 

GC: R34LLY, MY B4D

EB: uh huh.

GC: HOW 4BOUT TH1S 

GC: 1 PROM1S3 1 W1LL NOT M4K3 4NY MOR3 4TT3MPTS ON YOUR L1F3, B4RR1NG S3LF D3F3NS3

GC: 1S TH4T 4CC3PT4BL3?

EB: do you really think i would attack you so hard you would need to kill me to survive?

GC: NO

GC: 1 JUST DONT L1K3 LOOPHOL3S 1N MY CONTR4CTS >:P

GC: 3V3N 1F YOU 4R3 TOO DUMB TO 3XPLO1T TH3M

EB: i’m not dumb.

GC: JURYS ST1LL OUT ON TH4T ON3

GC: DO W3 H4V3 4N 4CCORD?

EB: sure, i guess.

GC: 3XC3LL3NT

EB: i’m not angry.

GC: >:?

EB: you said you understand why i’m angry with you. i’m not actually that angry. not really.

GC: W3LL TH3N WH4T TH3 FUCK D1D 1 4POLOG1Z3 FOR!!!

GC: FUCK YOU JOHN, 1 W4S OV3R H3R3 CH3W1NG MY L1P W1TH GU1LT 4ND HOP1NG TH4T YOU W3R3NT GO1NG TO CUT M3 OFF OR SOM3TH1NG 

EB: you were? hehe…

GC: SHUT UP

GC: WHY W3R3 YOU 4VO1D1NG M3 1F NOT B3C4US3 YOU W3R3 4NGRY???

EB: because…

EB: idk. i wasn’t sure what i felt. i was more upset at you for making me confused than for murdering me in cold blood.

EB: how messed up is that! haha.

GC: S3R1OUSLY? WOW 

GC: W4Y TO J3RK 4 L4DYS 3MOT1ONS 4ROUND

GC: WH3R3 4R3 YOU 1 N33D TO COM3 PUNCH WH4T3V3R SMUG LOOK YOU 4R3 W34R1NG OFF YOUR F4C3

EB: i’m in the treehouse.

EB: no killing this time.

GC: L1K3 1 S41D

GC: 1 PROM1S3

GC: <3<

\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] ceased trolling ectoBiologist [EB] --

 

**> John: await alien hate-suitor.**

Is the word ‘suitor’ applicable to women? You’ve only ever heard it applied to guys. You wonder what the female equivalent would be. Suitess? Maybe. Sounds dumb, though.

The treehouse was originally built by Dirk and Jake, but Jake said he was happy to let anyone use it. Sitting about 10 feet above the ground, it’s a single room with real glass windows, two beanbag chairs, and a coffee table that doubles as storage for board games. It’s a neat little place to hang out alone or with a couple friends.

Terezi’s offline now, so you stow your computer and sink back against a beanbag. You try to wrap your brain around everything she said. It seems like forever ago that Karkat announced his romantic hate for you, which ended up not mattering because he warmed up to you pretty quick. At the time, you knew absolutely nothing about troll romance. By now you’ve picked up on a few things through cultural osmosis, but you still mispronounce terminology and pretend to be the clueless human to get a rise out of people. 

You wonder if real kismesissitude is anything like the kind you’ve seen in troll movies. The first few times you saw a kismesissitude play on on screen, it just looked like they were arguing, then suddenly making out. The more you got to understand about trolls, though, the more you got it. They weren’t arguing, they were picking each other apart. They pushed each other so they had a reason to improve. You once said to Karkat, “it’s like if constructive criticism was romantic,” and for a moment he looked like he wanted to kiss you. Haha. That would have been weird.

Outside the treehouse you hear something smack against wood. That must mean Terezi found the ladder. You sit up and run a hand through your hair, suddenly nervous. You have no idea what to expect from this encounter.

The tips of her horns appear above the edge of the hole in the floor, quickly followed by the rest of her head. She sniffs once and immediately faces you. It’s kind of unnerving how she can place you like that from scent alone.

“John,” she says. It’s a greeting, not a question; she knows it’s you there.

“Hi,” you say. 

Wow. Smooth.

Terezi laughs at you and pulls herself the rest of the way into the treehouse. You smack the beanbag beside you, inviting her to sit. A grin spreads over her face as she saunters over. Instead of taking the other beanbag, she flops down on yours, half beside you, half in your lap.

“Oof,” you wheeze as her bony elbow connects with your side. That tense warmth in your gut comes back. “What the hell?”

She snickers and leans towards your face. “Something wrong, John?” she asks, her voice syrupy with false innocence. You can feel her breath on your cheek.

Great, now your face is warm, too. She giggles again and you wonder if she can smell you blushing. It wouldn’t surprise you. “I just don’t like it when murderers waltz over and sit on me for no reason,” you retort. You feel her tense up. Did you sound too angry? 

You stare her down, even though she can’t see you. Her grin has faded slightly, and her nose is twitching. 

She says, “I think ‘murderer’ is a bit of a strong word, don’t you?” 

That’s probably not a straightforward question. This  _ is _ Terezi, after all. She’s challenging you.

“If the shoe fits,” you say simply, working in as much of a sneer as you can muster.

Terezi bursts into laughter and wraps her arms around your torso. You let out an indignant squawk and brace against the beanbag as it shifts under you. Her face is against your neck suddenly, and man is it warm in here or what??

“John, that was the most adorable attempt to seem threatening I have ever been subjected to,” she sighs against your skin when her laughter subsides.

“Shuddup,” you mutter. Your face is probably ruddy as hell. “Unlike you, I’m not super well-practised at threatening people.”

“Oh, but that could change,” she cooes.

You don’t know why that makes you gulp, but it does. Your hands are still clenched in the sides of the beanbag, so you hesitantly put them on Terezi’s shoulders instead. You are so not used to this! Flirting with Roxy was one thing, but now you have a girl half-laying on you and breathing on your neck, which is sending tingles all up and down your spine.

“Or,” you say, and your voice sounds more feeble than you would like, “I could teach you how to actually be a nice person.” You shift her away from your neck. She quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Are you qualified to instruct that class, mister Egbert?” 

You make a face and push her even farther from you, forcing her to release you. “Terezi, gross! I am so not down for student/teacher roleplay, no thanks. Nuh-uh.”

The look she gives you is comically confused. “What?”

Yeah, so that wasn’t what she was implying. You knew that. There aren’t adults on Alternia, duh, that dynamic probably doesn’t exist in her culture - “Wait,” you say, frowning. “Are you saying I’m not a nice person?”

“I’ve met nicer,” she replies. Her grin comes back full force.

You gasp in mock offence. “What?! But I’m John! I’m THE nice guy! Who is nicer than me? I have to find them and challenge them to a nice-off.”

Terezi giggles. “Be careful with that, I might get jealous.  _ That _ wouldn’t be very nice of you.”

You roll your eyes and flick her nose. The look she gives you is downright murderous, which makes you glad about her promise.

Instead of saying anything, she slides her fingers into your hair and forcefully tugs your head down towards her. This position is horribly uncomfortable; the beanbag was not made to hold more than one person and your bodies are clustered together, digging into each other in awkward places. One of your arms has become trapped between you at some point. Your free hand settles on Terezi’s waist.

You become aware that your breathing has quickened. Oh man. This… this isn’t so bad. She pulls at your hair more insistently and a growl rattles her chest. You let out a chuckle. It’s a funny noise!

Terezi’s knee presses hard against your thigh. She seems pretty impatient.

You have nooooo idea what she could possibly be waiting for. (Hehe.)

**> Terezi: demand a kiss.**

You’ve signalled to him in as many nonverbal ways as you know how, but the dense fucker isn’t getting it. Or maybe he is, and is intentionally being clueless. The thought makes your blood boil.

“Either kiss me or tell me to fuck off, Egbert,” you hiss. 

“Is there a third option?” he asks. Oh. You start to slide your fingers out of his hair but he laughs and drops a kiss on your lips. “I was just joking, jeez. You looked so upset, haha!”

You hate him so much. You slam your mouths together, feeling satisfaction curl in your chest when he squeaks.

He pulls back sooner than you would like, but luckily he doesn't stay away for long. You push and pull at his mouth, his tongue, and he's such a clumsy kisser, it's adorable and frustrating in equal amounts. His teeth catch your lip but it's such a dull pain, just pressure, no puncture, but it still makes your whole body twitch, anything to get closer-- 

The two of you break apart as the beanbag shifts backwards, sending both of you sliding towards the floor.

“Woah!” John gasps and lets go of you to brace himself upright so he doesn't crush you. Your bodies are doing a pretty good imitation of Jade’s tangle-buddies, half still on the beanbag and now half on the floor. Your hip is starting to hurt a little.

“Perhaps we should disengage and try again,” you suggest.

“Yeah, okay,” John mutters.

The two of you un-tangle and you sit up on the floor, crossing your legs. You run your claws through you hair; it got pretty mussed in the kerfuffle.

John pushes the beanbag back into a more appropriate shape for a seat and sinks back into it, but not all the way. He’s still sitting forward, slightly, and you think he might be fidgeting.

“Something to say?” you inquire, tilting your head slightly.

He laughs, and it’s a nervous sound. “Wow. You’re uncanny, you know that?”

“I’ve been told that, yes.”

He lapses into silence. You wish he wasn’t nervous. It makes you  _ mad _ that he’s nervous! He’s a hero, and a leader, even if he won’t admit to those things, and he’s done so much brave shit in his life that it makes you near  _ tremble _ with anger that he can’t muster the courage to say whatever’s on his mind. You hate him so much.

Just as you’re about to tell him to spit it out already, he sighs and says, “I don’t know if this is really a good idea.”

Your bloodpusher seizes.

Part of you wants to demand why, but you force it down, keeping your lips pressed firmly shut. You’ll wait for him to explain himself.

John ruffles his own hair and you’re missing the cornflower-blue smell of his irises, so he isn’t looking at you. “I just mean that, well, I don’t really know if I can do this properly! The hate-dating thing. It’s like that thing Karkat said that time… about broken hateglands, or something? I mean, if it makes you feel better, if I could hate anyone at all, it’d be you.” He laughs again. “Man that’s a weird thing to say!”

A smile slips onto your face despite yourself.

“But, yeah, um.” He falters again. “Sorry. I feel super weird now, about kissing you and stuff. It feels like maybe taking advantage of you, which is super shitty. I’m shitty. And sorry. Very shitty and super sorry.”

“John,” you say, finally, before he can degrade himself more. “If you had been taking advantage of me, you’d be dead.” A smile creeps up on your lips at the smell of his confusion. “Self-defense, remember?” you remind him.

“I guess,” he says, and he sounds all glum. It sucks. This sucks.

You slap him.

He squeals in alarm, and if the stinging in your hand is any indication, his cheek is going to be tender for a while.

“You do not get to mope about this!” you hiss at him. He’s staring at you. You can smell the milk-and-cornflower of his eyes, and the raspberry insides of his open mouth. “Fuck you John, for feeling bad for me, and especially for feeling bad for yourself!”

“I do not feel bad for you,” he protests. “I mean maybe I kinda do, or I would, if you at all deserved it. But I don’t think you do! You’re mean, and kind of selfish! You treat other people like they’re props or characters in your little roleplay games, like their whole purpose is to entertain you or support your story in some way.”

Your teeth click together as your jaw snaps shut. John seems very relaxed for someone who just verbally assaulted your character. You absolutely boil.

“I was kind of expecting you to yell ‘objection,’ like this is one of your silly courtroom fantasies,” John sneers. It’s a real sneer, too, natural and not forced like before when he was trying too hard. Your bloodpusher beats heavily against your ribcage.

“Bullshit your hategland is broken,” you rasp.

Without waiting for a reply you crawl forward until you’re snout-to-snout with him. One of your knees is between his, sunk into the beanbag, and your other foot braces against the floor. Your arms cage in his head, trapping him beneath you. (Not really. He’s a god and you’re made of acute angles. He could easily get rid of you.) (The fact that he doesn’t sends tingles through your organs.)

He’s staring at you again, eyes wide behind his glasses. You have no idea what you must look like to him right now.

**> John: pop a hate boner.**

You will do no such thing.

Although, you kind of understand now more than ever why such a thing is in fact, a thing.

Terezi has you pinned to your beanbag again, put this time she’s hovering over you, her hair all over the place and her weird troll ears angled away from you. Her lips are slightly parted in what could easily become a snarl, and you can see the glisten of her sharp teeth. Overall her expression gives off a vibe of ‘I am going to eat you alive’.

Gulp.

You want to kiss her again. That hot, itchy feeling is back full force and kissing her was -- not  _ nice _ because Terezi isn’t nice, but it was kind of exciting and it felt good. But you don’t want to lead her on!

Maybe you aren’t. Maybe you do hate her.

You wish emotions weren’t so confusing. It’s making you kind of flustered and angry. Angry at yourself, but also at  _ her. _ Why did she have to go and make you feel all weird and itchy and topsy-turvy? Why did she have to kill you and kick this whole thing off? Why does troll romance have to be so messed up??

The more you think, the more your breathing starts to get heavy, and finally you think,  _ fuck it. _ You grab her by the waist and surge up to kiss her.

There's a flash of green light and a thud, which makes you break the kiss and whip your head towards the noise. You proceed to have the  _ most _ awkward eye contact with your sister.

“Eep,” you say.

“Oh, jeez,” Jade says, blushing. Her cute doggy ears flatten and she looks away. “Sorry, I didn't realize you two were- um. I can come back later?”

Terezi sighs and pulls back from you (awh, now your lap is cold). “Hello, Jade. The mood has been thoroughly interrupted whether or not you leave, so you might as well stay.” Her cheeks are kinda dark and faintly blue. You don't know whether it was your kissing or Jade’s sudden appearance that made her blush, but you kinda hope it was because of you. She sits back on her haunches and runs her hand through her hair again.

Jade fiddles with her sleeves and raises an eyebrow at you. You did eventually tell her that you got in a fight with Terezi, but you didn't explain why, and you definitely haven't had the chance to tell her that Terezi has a thing for you. Her confusion is understandable.

“Um, alright. I was just looking for John. It's good to see the two of you... getting along…” Jade trails off and you nice she's staring at your face. You feel warm again.

“What?” you demand.

Jade scurries over to you and touches your cheek, which still stings a little. Her eyes are wide.

“Jade -" you start to say.

Her head whips to Terezi, growling. “You hit my brother?!”

Terezi shrugs, way too calm. “He deserved it.”

You grab Jade's arm with one hand and put the other on her head, between her furry ears. “Hey, it's fine,” you say, but you feel awkward. Her radioactive green eyes snap back to you. “Actually, she's um, hitting  _ on _ your brother.” You chuckle at your own joke.

“Well I saw  _ that.  _ You know how this looks though, don't you?”

“Shoosh, Jade, I'm fine.”

She looks at you skeptically. Terezi makes a weird crickety noise that makes you turn your head. She coughs and looks away.

“If you two are done spreading the pale love,” she says meaningfully.

You make a face. “Terezi, gross. You just implied that my sister and I are dating! Even in a nonsexy way that's still bad!”

She shrugs. “I doubt I’ll ever understand your human hangups about that but whatever. You fucking mammals.”

“Whatever,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Jade, I swear to you that Terezi isn’t doing anything that I - okay well, I didn’t  _ want _ to be hit, but I can handle a little slap. I’ll kick her or something later. If she ever goes too far you can beat her up as much as you want, okay?”

“Fine,” Jade sighs and pushes her head against your hand. “I didn't expect you would be into blackrom stuff.” 

“Yeah, well, me neither.” You chuckle and skitch her ears. You can never get over how soft they are. 

Out of the corner of your eye you notice Terezi’s nostrils flaring. She looks like she wants to say something but her lips stay sealed in a thin black line. Because of what she said before, a mischievous idea works its way into your head.

**> Terezi: be subjected to John’s mischievous idea.**

Jade's arrival was awkward enough, but now John has his hands in her hair and is  _ murmuring reassurances _ to her.

“Don't worry, I can handle myself,” he says, and his voice is disgustingly soft. “It's nice that you're worried about me but it's fine, I promise. I'll explain stuff to you later if you want to talk about it.” 

Is he - you're pretty sure he just promised her a feelings jam while  _ massaging _ her milk-white barkfiend ears. This is so incredibly inappropriate. You cough into your fist again but neither of them seem to notice or care. 

“Alright,” Jade sighs again. “I trust you.” 

You make another embarrassing noise because of just how pacified she sounds. Neither of them are making the subvocal inflections but their words and actions are so painfully pale that apparently your traitorous body feels the need to pick up the slack for them. 

The inside of your mouth sours and you realize it’s because John is  _ grinning _ at you. Your claws bite into the meat of your palms and you wish it was his skin you were pressing sharp things against. The growling sound you are now making is the furthest possible thing from pale. 

“If you two are  _ quite _ done,” you say, on the verge of snarling.

John starts laughing at you and you are amazed at your own self-restraint in not attacking him right then and there.

“Oh man, your face! If only you could see your expression right now!” He wheezes and clutches his own stomach, obviously very fucking pleased with himself.

“John! Be sensitive!” Jade smacks his knee, offended on your behalf. 

You crack your neck. “Now would be a good time for you to go, Jade,” you say. “I'm about to hit him again.”

She takes a breath like she's about to protest but John laughs and pushes her shoulder gently. “She doesn't mean that. Go interrupt someone else's makeouts.”

“Okay, okay. Just remember, you two: safe, sane, and consensual.” With another burst of green apple electricity, Jade vanishes.

As soon as John turns towards you, you backhand his other cheek. While he reels from the blow, you grab the front of his godshirt and haul him forwards onto the ground with you. He lands on your chest, which makes you wheeze, but your mouth is now conveniently right beside his ear. “That was depraved, John Egbert,” you rumble.

John suppresses a shudder and braces his arms on either side of your shoulders so he's not crushing you with his weight. “I have no idea what you're talking about,” he says. His breath carries the tang of deception, and you hiss at him.

“The others might buy your innocently oblivious schtick, but it won't work on me. You think I haven't noticed your little ploy? This is why I hate you, John. You do shit like that, but when people try to give you crap about it you're all ‘I don't know what you're talking about!’” your voice pitches up in a tone of mockery. “‘I'm John, I'm friends with everybody! I'd neeeever do anything malicious, I'm just clueless, I swear!’ And everyone  _ fucking  _ falls for it. But not me.” You pull him closer, and inhale deeply his shock and faint arousal. “I smell right through you,” you exhale through gritted teeth.

“I - I don't know about all that,” he says. His hair tickles your forehead. “But I mean… I guess, thanks? I’m trying to understand all this and I'm pretty sure in this context everything you just said was actually very romantic! I didn't know you could be romantic; I'm honestly surprised.” He snickers.

Anger flares in your chest when you sniff again and determine that he's not lying.

You say, “Fuck you,” and kiss him.

**> John: hatedate Terezi.**

A week has passed since you made out with Terezi in the treehouse. You  _ guess  _ that you're dating? Your expectations for dating involved a lot less under-the-table pinch-wars and a lot more… liking each other. You don't like Terezi. She's abrasive and creepy-on-purpose and she says things that just set you off for no reason other than her tone is a little nasty or her words hit a little too close to home. You don't like  _ her, _ but you like it when you can shift her expression from smug to annoyed. You like it when you can prove that she's wrong about things; especially when she's wrong about you. 

Kissing her is weird; it's kind of an ordeal and takes a lot of energy because there’s some wrestling involved but you're usually pretty satisfied by the end of it. It's worth it to see her so tense and riled up, hair wild and snarling mouth all damp and bitten. One day she pulled you into a janitorial closet at the community centre after you beat her in a game of Crazy Eights, and she absolutely went to town on your neck, which is probably the best thing that's ever happened to you. Except that Rose pointed out your hickeys at dinner and totally embarrassed you in front of everyone. 

It's not at all what you would normally expect from a relationship, but… you kind of enjoy it. She keeps you on your toes. She's crafty, and pretty strong, and not afraid to call you on your bullshit. The fact that she's so capable makes it even worse - if she was wrong about all the things she says to you it would be easier to dismiss her, but you can't. You kind of don't want to, actually! She can never know that, though.

Your name is John Egbert, and you have just dumped a bucket of blue paint on your kismesis, Terezi Pyrope. (Now that you know a bit more about troll culture, you fully understand the implications of coloured liquids in buckets.) (You know that she knows you understand it, which is part of what makes this such a good prank, hehe.)

She turns to you, paint dripping from her hair, trickling down her arms, and soaking into her clothes. Her nostrils flare; her hands shake with anger. This will probably end in a strife that leads to more making out. 

You say, “Catch me if you can,” in your most impish voice and zip away from her as fast as possible towards the forest. Behind you, she shrieks your name, and you just laugh.


End file.
